


At Home

by badgirlcarly



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, Family Gatherings, Holidays, In-Laws, M/M, Over the Knee, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgirlcarly/pseuds/badgirlcarly
Summary: It takes Ray some time to get comfortable with Walter's family.





	At Home

  
Ray had met and spent time with many of Walter's family members in small groups and for limited amounts of time, but it wasn't until he was in the middle of a whole mess of them for a long weekend that he realized he wasn't the only one who got spanked regularly. 

Easter weekend, Ray and Walter and about twenty of Walter's aunts and uncles and cousins were at Walter's folks’ house. The kitchen was in use nearly ten hours a day; children were underfoot, running and laughing. Basketball was on the television, and empty beer cans and used paper plates piled up in trash cans and on tables. 

Ray didn't have much family, and he wasn't used to this kind of chaos at family gatherings. He stayed on the sidelines, trying to get his bearings. Walter, as always, was happy to be in the middle of things, eating too much and drinking and laughing heartily. 

Two of the children running and playing started a loud argument about a toy; it ended with one of the children being scooped up by his mother and given several hard smacks to the backside, right in the middle of everything. Ray was uncomfortable, blushing nervously, but no one else even blinked. Ray knew Walter and all his cousins had been spanked as children; he never had been, and to see it treated so casually rattled him. By the end of the weekend, he'd be a lot more than rattled, but now he busied himself bringing Walter a new beer, trying to ignore the child’s shrieking cries. 

Later that evening, Ray helped the kids color eggs in coffee cups filled with dye. He thought things were calming down for the night, but then there was a commotion from the living room. A fight had broken out over the ballgame; Ray got there just in time to see Walter's pa and one of his uncles pulling two of Walter's cousins apart. There were split lips and shouting, which only died down as the older men drug the boys from the room. Ray heard the back door whine on its hinges; he wondered what was going on, but he didn't press. He went back to decorating eggs in the kitchen. The question of where the men had gone was pushed from his head until he heard yelling from out back. After a good twenty minutes, Walter's cousins limped back into the house, their faces red and wet. 

Hours later, Ray tucked himself next to Walter in their double sleeping bag. He kept his voice low. 

“Did Junior and Isaac get taken out to the woodshed?” he asked. 

Walter put his arm around him, rubbed his back. “Yup. Imagine they both got a pretty good dose of the strap. Pop’s been using the same one since before I was born. It's a monster, thick as my thumb.”

Ray blushed again, but it was probably too dark to see. He cuddled close, and tried not to imagine his own self bent over Walter's pa’s workbench, pants around his ankles, biting back sobs as the monster strap bit the skin off his hind end. 

Jinx. 

***

“Go make sure those kids don't take out a window with that ball,” Walter said. Ray got caught up in the game, and not ten minutes later, the kids were scattering and screaming as Ray’s ball broke glass. 

Walter was on him in a minute, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the house. 

“I'm sorry,” Ray said. “I'll clean it up.”

“_I_ will clean it up,” Walter said, “and then I'll spank you so hard you’ll be sure to listen next time I tell you to do something. Go ask ma to borrow her hairbrush.”

Ray's gut roiled as he walked through the house to the kitchen, where Walter's ma and about ten other women were cooking. He swallowed thickly, studied his shoelaces. 

“Ma, may I please borrow your hairbrush?” he mumbled. 

She nodded, and wiped flour from her hands onto a thin towel. “Stay here.”

Ray obeyed, waiting with flaming cheeks. The women ignored him, going back to their cooking, but he imagined every titter and giggle was about him. 

Ma came back and handed Ray the hairbrush. It was wood with thick bristles on the front and intricate carving on the back. It was painted and heavily varnished, though both the paint and the shiny varnish were worn in the middle of the brush’s back. Ray estimated its weight at fifteen pounds. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“You bring that back to me once you're finished, or you'll get another dose from me.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he whispered, and shuffled from the room holding the brush. 

Walter was waiting in the living room. Ray handed him the brush, and Walter took the brush in one hand and Ray in the other and walked to his old bedroom in the back of the house. 

Walter closed and locked the door. He sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Bare your butt.”

Ray pulled down his pants and underwear, and leaned over Walter's lap. Walter helped position him so that Ray lay over one of Walter's legs, his top half supported by the bed and his feet on the ground. Walter scissored his free leg around Ray’s, locking them in place. 

Ray's bare ass was propped up on Walter's knee like a fucking gift. Ray lowered his face to the comforter, laid limp waiting for the spanking to start. The door was closed, but everyone would be able to hear the crack of the heavy hairbrush smacking against his ass, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself from crying out. 

But it was just life as usual for the Crow Horses. It was almost like an induction into the family. 

Without preamble, Walter smacked the brush down against Ray's bare butt. As predicted, the noise was loud, definitely loud enough to be heard through the door. More than that, the swat hurt! Ray wasn't able to deal with the pain of the first blow before the brush smacked down again and again and again. Walter spanked fast, the blows blurring into one aggregate of pain: a fire burning Ray's ass and thighs. He wanted to wriggle, but Walter had him pinned in place. He was helpless to the mounting pain in his hindquarters. He buried his face in the comforter, grabbing onto the blanket with shaky fists, and soon he was yelping every time the brush smacked down. He remembered the child who got a spanking after refusing to share. He was just the same as that little boy: a naughty boy being punished and crying about it. That was the last straw, and Ray started to cry, the tears slick and hot on his face, his shouts morphing into a hiccuppy wail. 

“I'm sorrrrryyyyyyyy,” he sobbed. “Walter, please, I'm suh-uh-uh-rrrrrry.”

The swats kept coming: CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Ray cried like a baby while Walter gave him the punishment he'd earned, and outside the door, Ray's new family paid no mind. 

***

Ray made his walk of shame through the crowded house, the hateful hairbrush in his hand. He stood in the kitchen, rubbing his thoroughly punished backside with his free hand, until Walter's ma had a free moment to take the brush back. 

The whole house knowing he'd just been spanked wasn't as traumatic as he'd imagined, but the brush had definitely left an impression, and he wasn't eager to get another dose. He imagined squirming over Ma’s ample lap as the heavy hairbrush bruised his bare bottom. He accepted this scene was likely somewhere in his future. Just not _today_.  



End file.
